


Sun and Star Lost in the Sea

by Ramzes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: And angst, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Young Love, aeweek, as i said young love, teenagers being clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: She first thought of wedding him when she was eight – and the idea made her content. Why should it not?





	Sun and Star Lost in the Sea

She first thought of wedding him when she was eight – and the idea made her content. Why should it not? Arthur was kind and considerate and he was pale-haired, unlike Oberyn. Really, who would want to wed Oberyn? He was loud and obnoxious and he cheated to win at catching fireflies. And while Elia was glad that she had had the forethought to go to Doran and show him every firefly she caught so he could keep count and shred Oberyn’s lies to pieces, it did her little heart a good deal of fluttering when, at the bickering of who the winner was Arthur announced his stance before Doran even knew that Elia’s worst fears had turned to reality.

“You lost,” he said, looking at her brother in a way that was by no means querulous but firm and unflinching in a way of his own. “Accept it, Oberyn. You lost.”

With a shout of rage, Oberyn lunged for the other boy with fists and kicks ready and Arthur responded in kind. As to Elia, she felt like a lady whose honour had been defended. A heroine from the books she liked so much.

“Why did you take my side?” she asked later when the truth had been made known to all and Oberyn had gone off to sulk because, in addition to taking Elia’s side, Doran had warned that unless he could hear his own thoughts in a few moments, everyone would be sent to bed. Starting with Oberyn and Elia which was so very unfair. She had not done anything wrong.

Arthur smiled. In the starry night, his hair shone as fair as the moon. “Because I know you and I know Oberyn,” he said. “I trust you,” he added simply and smiled when he saw the smile of delight spreading across her face.

To Elia, this was a good enough reason to contemplate wedding him. They would spend their lives traveling through high seas to see a world that was forbidden to her yet due to her frailness.

* * *

 

 The next time she thought of wedding him, she was fifteen and her mother had told her that they would go on a sea voyage. Elia was old enough to know what that meant and she could not say that she minded it. Girls with her standing were born and bred for a high marriage and really, what could she complain of? She would actually have a husband, unlike her half-sister who was a very pretty girl. In fact, she was the prettier one out of the two, in Elia’s mind. But she was a Sand and she had little to expect by the way of marriage. Elia was lucky indeed…

Until she learned their final destination. Then, she minded very much indeed. “I will not wed a child!” she yelled and Arianne Martell did not bother with weaseling out by stating that no one had _said_ Elia would.

“You won’t,” she said instead. “He will be a grown-up when the wedding would come to be.”

“And I’ll be an old woman!” Elia shouted. “I’ll be twenty, at least!”

Her mother looked away to hide her expression. Her father did not bother concealing his: he burst out laughing. “The Seven help me, child, sometimes you can be as dramatic as Oberyn and even more…”

“It isn’t funny!” Elia railed.

“Indeed it is,” he protested, still shaking with laughter.

He did not understand and her mother did not understand either. Many would have said that having a young and, the Mother willing it, handsome husband was good for a woman. Elia did not think so. Her frail constitution had made her being more aware of the way other people connected and she had seen enough couples in which the husband was almost a boy and the wife, a woman almost grown. She had seen the longing and interest with which these women eyed young men their own age, their sad envy at those who were discovering the joy of being a young woman and live their youth as such, instead of trying to fall in line with someone who was far from them in interests, self-control and _experience_.  Besides, being even betrothed to a child meant that she would never get to enjoy the courtship and playfulness other girls did. With betrothal, obligations came. For _years_.

“Can’t I wed Arthur?” she asked quite desperately and her mother shook her head.

“He’s a good boy but he is a second son. _If_ I had a Dayne in mind for you, it would have been his brother but he’s betrothed to Shanai Allyrion. It just doesn’t do to take away betrothals from your bannermen, Elia.”

The girl nodded but she was not really listening. Arthur had been the first name to spring to her mind and in fact, there were no others. Even the sound of the sea that always helped her focus her mind did not whisper her any.

 

* * *

 

 

The third time she thought of wedding him, she was seventeen and she had just learned what his life ambition was.

“You want to be a Kingsguard?” she asked, stunned. “But why?”

He laughed. His time in the north – to Elia, everything starting from the other side of the Red Mountains was north and farther north yet – had made his hair more gold than silver but his eyes were just the same deep shade of violet that she remembered. Laugh came harder for him now – he was trying so hard to be perfect, to be serious, to become the greatest knight who had ever lived – and Elia felt satisfaction that she was the one who brought it out.

Satisfaction, however, could not obliterate the horror of what he had just told her.

“Why not?” Arthur asked. “That’s what every boy dreams of.”

“Not every _Dornish_ boy,” she corrected. “Do you really want to lose every chance at what makes life worth living? Having a wife and children? Having a _will_ of your own? What has been my uncle teaching you all this time?” Some vague disappointment was wrapping her in a cold embrace. She had never expected to wed him, really, but the thought that she could and he would had long been a nice refuge to go to when things overcame her or when she simply want to think of something nice.

Only, he would not.

“Perhaps I am not every Dornish boy.” His voice was so cold that she looked at him, surprised. “And why do you care so much anyway? You won’t wed the Lannister child, so you can now go and find a Dornish boy who will be honoured to teach you the things you long to learn. Because I wouldn’t have wed you even if your parents would have had me, that’s for sure!”

His face was so changed that Elia drew back and when two ladies strolling down a garden path not quite close to the terrace they were sitting at, she realized that he had raised his voice – and so did he.

“I’m sorry,” he said, in a softer tone now. “You forget. I have already achieved what every Dornish boy longs for. Perhaps now I need something more.”

Elia’s eyes went to his hands, empty now, but the only pair of hands that had the right to raise the sword of milk and pale stars.

“I thought I could be your something more,” she said, also very softly. “You certainly were mine.”

His expression changed again to something ugly and horrible. “Was I?” he asked and this time, Elia did not recoil because under the ugliness, there was something… aching.

“What?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

“No,” he said. “You never did. You are so smart, yet you think life is something coming straight from your books. You want the appeal of love but not the pain, do you?”

“No!” she gasped. “Whatever gave you this idea…”

“Who,” he corrected. “You gave me this idea, Elia of House Martell. You gave me this truth. I was good enough to be your courtly love, your saving grace, was I not? But nothing more. Never something more. Did you stop to think if I would have liked to wed someone who likes the idea of love but not me? What was I supposed to do with you once we were wed? Besides saving you, I mean. What do you think I am – your girl friend?”

Now, Elia understood and blushed. Perhaps she should have not told him of her ideas of wedding him in order not to wed Jaime Lannister… Or perhaps she might have added that she did have dreams of him. Romantic dreams… and not quite. Some of the nights with him in her sleep were anything but romantic. They were as heated as they could be! But she had not told him because… why, in fact? Because he had never shown that his interest in her went beyond being a book figure? But then, why should he have? If he thought she saw him as a confidante, a... girl friend, almost.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “It isn’t like this.”

“I don’t care what it is like,” he sighed, looking very weary all of a sudden. “What are you going to tell me – that you love me? What is it going to change?”

All of a sudden, Elia’s regret was replaced by fury. She did not doubt that he was telling her the truth but she’d be damned if she let him blame it on on her.

“Nothing,” she agreed. “Because you want to be known as the greatest knight ever lived, not a thief of young highborn ladies to whom you can offer nothing.”

He flinched and Elia knew that she had hit a nerve. She might be overly romantic and whatnot but he was as ambitious as they came – as ambitious as the Hand of the King himself! His ambition was no less of ambition because it was romantic… and he dared to call _her_ overly romantic? He was pushing the blame onto her because he didn’t like to think that he was depriving himself of something as important as a _life_. It was easier to say that he had been denied!

For a long moment, they stared at each other, their faces white and their eyes ablaze. They had seen each other as they truly were. The masks were down.

“Goodbye, Princess,” he said at last. “I hope we never see each other again.”

“Wait!” she cried after him, feeling that she’d die if he left. If they parted like this. What was anger compared to… this?

But he did not turn back and no, she did not even die. The song of the sea filled her ears with the roar of hopes frustrated and dreams shattered before they had even had the chance to fully form.

* * *

 

 

In the months and years that followed, Elia often thought of this meeting, relived it over and over. When she was older, she could see the ridiculousness of it. A boy and a girl thinking that the world revolved around them. That the world was over.

Of course they saw each other again. And of course, over time they put all of this behind them. Whims of youth. Infatuation. Something that every young person should experience – and leave it behind.

 _We did leave it behind_ , Elia told herself as she stood next to Rhaegar Targaryen and said her vows clearly, loudly and without hesitation. _We did._

At the feast, Arthur was nowhere to be seen and this was good because Elia felt that if she knew where he was, she would be unable to tear her eyes off him. Now, she could only feel his eyes not leaving her from time to time – how she knew they were his, she could not say – and this was much better.

Well, perhaps they had not quite left it behind. But they would. Over time, as her marriage grew strong and true, she would dream of eyes with shade that was not violet but purple.

She would.

 

 

**The End**


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